The Cleaners
by swift hunter
Summary: With your Hunters captured and their technology in Human hands, who do you send in?
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not own Aliens or Predators.

Warning: Contains humour and violence. No pairings whatsoever.

Rating: M, cause if it's not there now…it will be soon.

Summary: With your Hunters captured and their technology in Human hands, who do you send in?

Thanks go out to my Beta, **Indignant Lemur**. For a great job and at a speed that I personally find startling.

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The Prologue

They came from the stars, a long, long time ago. Already they were old; an ancient race of beings that had traversed galaxies and mapped countless worlds while our people still wore nothing but sun-baked mud and sheltering in clay huts. A crack of thunder heralded their arrival to our planet and in the midst of a frightful storm three great ships emerged from the night sky and descended on our planet. From smoke and darkness these Hunters strode confidently into the midst of a fledgling Humanity. They held themselves as Gods. In our eyes, they were Gods. Bold, fearless, ageless in comparison to our primitive ancestors, who skittered away from them, terrified.

So foreign. So powerful. Honourable in their codes… and terrible in their wrath.

It was the birth of a new religion. The dawn of science, and of architecture. These Gods brought with them great wonders, immense knowledge, guidance from the stars. They taught the lowly, primitive Humans how to build. The shared with them their knowledge and, as a result, Humanity prospered, spreading across our planet.

But all great things come at a price.

This was ours: the Kainde Amedhe. By the measures of modern greed, the price Humanity paid for a thousand years of advancement was meagre. The business tycoons of today would gladly –eagerly– pay it tenfold if given the choice. The world should pray they're never given it. The Kainde Amedhe were the ultimate prey for these Gods. The only thing these great beings found a worthy enough challenge. So in exchange for our advancement and our undying worship, the Gods would claim their debt every century. They'd use us to breed these monsters. Then they'd hunt them. A handful of Human lives in exchange for such wonders was not just acceptable –to be chosen was considered an honour; a chance to die in the name of your God. There are worse things to die for, believe me.

Sometimes the Hunters failed. Great and powerful as they were, the hunt was always a risk, always a gamble, and we were the ones who paid in the end.

The consequences of failure were devastating. Entire cultures were wiped from the face of the earth. They were then but dust in the wind; forgotten in the aftermath of an alien weapon, terrible in its reckoning. The Hunters, in their defeat, would leave nothing alive.

Yes, the price of advancement was steep, but there was a greater destroyer at play; slowly working in the background, completely uncaring, oblivious to these Gods or their wishes. Time claims everything and a century is a long time for a fickle race such as ours to be left to our own devices.

In the absence of the Gods the surface of the planet began to change and the peoples scattered before the snow and ice. Some feared that they'd angered these Hunters and had been punished; many turned their backs on them and over time history forgot these warriors, replacing them with new deities. The Hunters came back to a world changed. Their temples and pyramids, buried, lost, abandoned. The people using the knowledge they'd gained to advance themselves and build monuments to their new Gods.

The very first Human revolution.

These Hunters, the Yautja –as much as they were forgotten, they did not by any means forget us. We were cunning and while we lacked the dangers they faced in the Kainde Amedhe, we grew to present new challenges. To fight against us was to now fight against tools of war, against soldiers trained for combat, against minds twisted by greed and power.

We too, became the hunted. In war-torn districts, in the heat, they'd come to claim their prey. Had Humans the mind to look, they'd find old stories dating far back to the roots of our civilizations, tales of men skinned by monsters and invisible demons that stalked Human prey. Yet, Man's indecency towards his fellow Man masked these events. I've learned just how infinite Humans' capacity for cruelty is and there was nothing these Hunters could have done that the rest of the world wouldn't blame on their own kind.

Of course, we could be as clever as we could be cruel and it was only a matter of time before these predators were discovered. Time, it would seem, changes all things in the end.

The hunt had suddenly become even more perilous. And like the Kainde Amedhe, the price of the Hunters' failure would be great. For their technology to fall into the hands of Humans, now, would mean their ruin. Desperate to protect their secrets, the highest ranking members of their kind cast aside a rule older than our very world; a code of the hunt. It was unbreakable, or so it had once seemed. The Yautja now found themselves free to utilize resources already present on Earth; buried within the cultures and civilizations of its many peoples.

You see, not all of us forgot them. We remember… and we wait.

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Sometimes ignorance is a blessing. Not exactly something you'd hear from many Yautja, but in situations completely out of your control, perhaps it's best not to know. After all, death won't stop to introduce itself and clarify the details before it claims you, so exactly what purpose is there in such knowledge when the outcome is the same?

The absence of such things as hope, opportunity, mercy, companions and strength can cripple even the most diehard survivalist. After all, they are the fundamental things you need in order to climb yourself out of any hole, escape any situation…and they just happened to be all of the things the warrior had woken up to find he no longer possessed.

Yes, sometimes ignorance is a blessing. Unfortunately, the Gods saw fit to curse this particular sentient being with the harsh facts of his present reality; a cold, angry truth that left him with the bitter taste of failure in his mouth and a splitting headache. After a hundred seasons of hunting and double that of trophies, on a dumb, backwater little world a hell of a distance from his home, he and his cohort had been caught –taken by prey no less, totally off guard and without a fight!

_Without a fight_. To spend half your life training in the Kehrite and then to be taken by a band of primitives with not a drop of blood spilt... It was shameful. Absolutely, and utterly shameful. Such a failure would never be forgotten. If he did make it back to his own people, the repercussions of such a mess might very well cost him his rank.

There had been three of them. Himself and two fellow hunters. They'd barely been in the city a day when it happened. A roof, somewhere to the south where they could get their bearings and suddenly their cloaks failed. All three of them, simultaneously. There were plenty of hazards when using the cloaks on worlds with so much water, but not that night. He watched the largest of his group fall, first. A great lumbering beast of a Yautja who could rip an enemy in two if he'd wanted, and he fell without a sound. He felt something pierce his back between his shoulder blades. Nothing more painful than an insect bite but within a moment he found himself straining to remain upright and conscious. He held onto awareness long enough to watch the last of his group stand to defend himself only to be struck in the chest by two small darts. The Yautja looked down in horror at the two projectiles lodged in his sternum before roaring and toppling sideways, unconscious.

Darkness finally claimed the last of the Hunters and when he woke, he was stripped, he was alone, he was restrained and he was as weak as he'd ever felt in his entire life. He doubted he could even stand. The loss of his protection and weaponry was almost painful considering he'd never so much as left a chip of armour behind on a hunt. It was such a foreign feeling, to be exposed and displayed in such a manner; it was the ultimate humiliation. He couldn't actually recall a period of time in his long life where he didn't at least possess his _dignity_. Yes, very strange and wholly unwelcome. He twisted his body as much as he could to test his restraints, but he found them sturdy. Of all the times for this particular prey species to start building things of quality, he thought. If he were stronger he might stand a chance.

He roared. He _had_ originally planned on remaining quiet long enough to see his captors and spring an escape while they were unprepared and unawares, but the more he pulled at his restraints, the more frustrated he became. It was inevitable, really. He winced as the sound reverberated around the room and drove itself into his brain like a hot spike.

Obviously unwise for a plethora of reasons, but again, it seemed to be the only way to release his frustrations.

They'd removed his mask on top of everything else. Not only did it limit his vision but the atmosphere of this planet, while not completely unlike that of his home world, wasn't within very tolerable limits. Without his mask or his breather back, he'd only last a few days before his lungs collapsed and he drowned in his own bodily fluids. He kept his breathing shallow and slow but he found panic to be a more than worthy adversary; suffocation wasn't exactly on a Hunter's 'acceptable ways to die' list.

He couldn't see much beyond the ceiling from his position, but if he strained his hearing he could just about make out sounds in the distance.

Dulled cognizant faculties came to life instantly and the Hunter roared out as loud as he could once he realized what he was hearing. After he'd let loose a barrage of sound and winced as it attacked his already battered senses, he waited in the quiet. Again, there was a distant, faint answering roar.

Judging from the pitch and the sheer indignation, he gathered it was the largest of his comrades. It seemed the most logical. They'd obviously drugged them and generally speaking the largest would recover the quickest, depending on the dose. His childhood friend had had the misfortune of taking two darts, though. As wise and dignified as his friend was, he was going to be less than pleased with the after effects. It was like recovering from the drunkenness of a great celebration, only without the celebration part, or the fun of drinking. Neither of which that particular oddity of a Yautja actually enjoyed. His recovery wasn't going to be the least bit pleasant.

The Hunter quickly found roaring less than appealing as the native air began to irritate his lungs and his throat started burning. He flexed his muscles once more and pulled against what he could now identify as solid metal cuffs, which linked him to the flat surface beneath him, but they remained firm and completely unyielding.

There was a noise close at hand. An audible click followed by a pressurized hiss a few feet away and followed by a blast of cold air that felt amazingly unpleasant in his exposed condition.

Several pairs of soft footsteps approached.

"Good morning. My name is Doctor, Samuel Geiger and I'm the head of this department." There was a rustling of crisp paper. "No doubt you're most curious about your present location and that of your personal effects." There was an arrogant chuckle. "Don't worry, they're in good hands." The voice assured him.

A figure appeared within sight. Even without the aid of his mask he could tell this Human was male and a rather unimpressive one at that. The male waved a hand across his vision before motioning another Human forward, a female, and writing something on the pad she offered him. He shooed her back with a blunt gesture and a brisk reprimand regarding footwear.

As utterly pointless as the Hunter felt it, the Human in charge turned back to him.

"I'm interested…do you understand me? Do you have a name? Are you the leader of your group?" The voice slowly questioned. While definitely not the leader of his group, he did indeed have a name, could very well understand every word he was hearing and could translate almost a dozen Human languages besides the one known as English -but that information was something he most certainly wasn't going to share. Besides, who knew what you might glean if the fool thought you couldn't understand him, or, even better, thought you were stupid.

Several moments passed and the Yautja kept silent, trying his best to appear dumb in just about every sense of the word.

The Hunter heard the Human sigh.

"Very well. It seems you don't wish to talk. No matter. I'll be back tomorrow and the day after that and the day after. Perhaps your friends will be more vocal." He muttered, feigning disappointment.

And then the foot steps retreated and the male and his entourage were gone…and the Hunter was alone again. As brief and unenlightening as that had been, it had been something. Were they intending to just let him rot in this room till he told them everything? If that was their intention, then they could interrogate his corpse! He wasn't worried about the others. His friend regularly refused to converse with fellow hunters because he thought them below him –this Human didn't have a chance at getting more than a glare! And the largest of their hunting party? Prying more than roars and growls from him on a good day was difficult. No, he wasn't worried about the others.

If he could regret anything at all, it would be that when Cetanu came for him, the dark one wouldn't be pulling his spirit out from amidst the rubble of this place. It's every warrior's right to die fighting; naked, unarmed, and gasping for breath like a fish out of water wasn't exactly ideal.

The Hunter growled under his breath and subsequently coughed as the foreign air hit his already protesting lungs. If one thing was now certain, time would make the last few days of his life the longest.


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Aliens or Predators.

All thanks go out to **Indignant Lemur** for beta-ing.

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Chapter One

Time, the Hunter had come to believe, was an entity of unfathomable cruelty. Ageless and unchallenged, it sped by the happy periods and made the torturous ones linger. Time had slowed to an almost imperceptible crawl since he'd woken up.

On the one hand, the most rational part of his brain decided that it had been exactly two days. He based this on the comings and goings of the Humans, considering he'd seen the male twice now and he'd promised to visit every day. Both visits were as equally pointless as the first meeting and, to his unforeseen delight, the male's smug exterior seemed to be cracking. Then, there was the fact that he hadn't suffocated yet. His lungs ached and breathing had become painfully difficult a while ago. Each time he'd tried to rest he found himself waking, gasping for breath. He had to remind himself that it only _felt_ like an eternity. A _boring_, rasping eternity.

If the Humans really intended to just let him die, why couldn't they just kill him? For such a supposedly clever race, the logic of that seemed to escape them.

Stupid, useless sacks of flesh. No, time wasn't the cruel one. _Humans_. The Hunter swore then that if he got out of here, he'd kill the first one he could. He'd slit them open, right down the middle and then he'd rip them apart with his bare hands! The mere thought of it brought him a glimmer of satisfaction but it didn't last long under the wave of discomfort. His chest felt tight.

There was loud click and more cold air. The Hunter stiffened and swallowed his urge to wheeze and cough. Show no weakness –especially in front of an enemy.

He waited for the voice but there was silence. He listened for footsteps but the usual clatter never came.

Considering he never heard anyone approach it came as quite a shock to see something cross his field of vision. Without his mask, details were difficult to ascertain but at a brief glance it had looked like a clawless hand. He strained his head to the side, pushing against the restraint to gain a better glimpse and he saw it again. Definitely a hand. It and its match were now holding something but he couldn't quite make it out from the angle. He narrowed his eyes and let out a growl when the hands came close to his face. Close enough for him to feel the heat that radiated.

"_What the..?_" He grumbled in his own tongue.

He stilled, recognizing the thing that had been placed in front of his face; it was his breather. Not even one of his comrades', but his, judging by the shape and size. Odd, but not in any way unwanted. The device hovered in front of his face, waiting. He gave a slight nod of his head and retracted his splayed mandibles. The device latched on and the brief suction around the edges let him know that it had properly attached. The relief he felt at the sudden gush of breathable air was significant.

He gulped the mixture greedily. Never again would he take such a luxury for granted! There were certainly worse things than getting mauled by a hard meat. Suffocation on a back water dump was presently topping that list.

If he concentrated he could hear breathing; something moving about behind him. There was a series of clicks and the whine of hydraulics and his horizontal position began to swiftly change into that of a vertical one. If he could of, behind the snug fit of the mask, he would have grinned. At least he could see now and breathe without difficulty. The figure walked around him and he comprehended the situation. It was a stupid female. The one that always accompanied the male, if he wasn't mistaken. He'd heard stories before about the foolishness of these creatures, the wasted empathy. These were the types that would heal a vicious wild animal and wonder, doe-eyed when it turned on them; no notion of self preservation whatsoever.

As grateful as he was, she was one of those responsible for his humiliation. As far as he was concerned, she would die with the rest of them if he ever escaped.

The Hunter's last thoughts ceased mid-word as the cuffs around his hands, feet and head disengaged and withdrew.

A toothy smile stretched against the inside of the breather. He shook his head and laughed.

"_How…in the name of Paya did this species survive?"_ The Hunter muttered, disbelievingly, in his own language. Obviously if a tiny fraction of the Planet's population were as dense as this one, then by all reasonable rights they should have destroyed themselves eons ago.

He chuckled and popped his shoulders. He was still weak, but not as weak as he'd once been. Certainly strong enough to eviscerate this stupid excuse for a meat sack and hang her dripping, skinless corpse up for them to find.

He growled and turned to face the female. When he caught sight of her he trilled a query unintentionally. She was standing, facing a completely blank wall. Her back was completely exposed; he could very well have walked up behind her and ripped her spine out while she were still breathing. That was, if the display was anything but astoundingly bizarre. It was considered against the most fundamental nature of any being to turn its back on something it considers even a minor threat. This was ludicrous!

He took a cautious step forward, and then another and then he was barely an arm's reach from killing her before her arm shot out to the side. His line of sight automatically followed her straight arm and pointed finger, and what he found at the end of it was a small desk littered with his armour. Weapons and mask missing, yes, but still, it was a start. He stifled the urge to roar in celebration; that wouldn't do at all. Ignoring the woman, he set about returning his armour to its rightful place. He didn't care if she ran now or not. She'd proved useful enough that he could forgive himself if she escaped the fate of the others.

_The others!_

The thought lodged in his mind. He may be free, but the others were not. That was something that his honour demanded he rectify. He would return to his people or he wouldn't, but he most certainly wouldn't be returning to his people in disgrace, knowing that he left his own to the mercy of the natives.

As he contemplated the fastest ways to free his fellow hunters, he unintentionally stumbled upon a devious thought. If the female had the gall –or stupidity, whichever you wanted to call it- to release him, perhaps she might assist him in releasing the others. He smirked and congratulated himself. That was crafty -even for him. He relaxed and tried his best to look non-threatening. A difficult endeavour, but he did try. He turned, fully dressed and almost half expecting the female to have vanished in much the same way that she'd appeared but she'd not so much as moved a muscle. He grunted to get her attention but she was still staring at the wall.

He impatiently approached and tapped her on the shoulder, mindful of his sharp nails. She seemed to jump a little and when she turned he noticed that her eyes were downcast. The female's sight was locked to the ground. She wasn't even making eye contact. He growled to get her attention but she _still_ refused to look at him.

How could he tolerate a being so weak it couldn't even look at him? He growled and poked her in the shoulder but she still didn't look up. A few more moments passed with the Hunter trying futilely to get her gaze off his feet. It would have looked like some sort of inane game to any observing Yautja. The Hunter really didn't have the time or the patience for this.

Irritated and annoyed, he lashed out and with a brisk shove he sent her rocketing against the wall where she crumpled at his feet. Still alive but clearly unconscious. A snort escaped his breather. It didn't even raise a hand to defend itself. Stupid bloody prey.

He examined the room thoroughly. There were simple controls obviously for altering the examination table but on closer inspection that seemed to be it. He found what was easily identified as the room's entrance but there were no handles. In fact there didn't seem to be any other discernable way of accessing the automated door. He pushed against it but it didn't give an inch.

Grumbling to himself he slowly turned back to the stupid female. As far as his patience stretched when he was frustrated, she was lucky to be alive. It was a difficult situation to wrap his mind around. She wasn't afraid of him; he could smell many different odours within this room, but fear wasn't among them, and yet she refused to make eye contact. Her behaviour was almost submissive. The alien warrior approached her unconscious form thoughtfully. He crouched down in front of her and with a rough hand he set about a rudimentary examination.

Her head was non-too gently turned this way and that and her arms were lifted and let fall; her hands slapping against the cold solid floor.

He concluded after several minutes that she was of moderate build, moderate height, decent health and presently unconscious. It struck him that perhaps he'd been a little hasty when he'd lashed out.

He stood up and kicked the woman's legs. She moved a little but didn't wake up. The Hunter's patience was once again tested and as had happened the first time, it cracked.

Reaching down he plucked the female off the ground and holding her by her upper arms, he began to shake her. Violently. Her arms and legs flailed like that of a rag doll as he tried to wake her up. He continued till he heard a low, long groan. Still holding the woman a good foot off the ground he brought his face closer to hers to check and see if she was any closer to consciousness. The woman's body seemed to lurch in his grip, convulse and a peculiar retching sound found the Hunter's face covered in fresh vomit.

To say that it took every single ounce of training, skill, and will power the warrior possessed to stop himself from throwing the female into the nearest hard surface, would be a vast and insulting understatement. He was hit with a mixture of confusion, shock, anger, revulsion and nausea at the display. While he didn't toss her away from his person he did drop her and stumble back cursing her and her kind into the depths of the Pit. He brought a hand to his face and wiped the sticky, warm, _chunky_ slop out of his eyes and off his brow. He absently wondered if projectile vomiting was a natural Human defence mechanism, or an acquired skill they taught their females.

There was another groan and this time the female did move. Rolling over she got as far as her knees before putting her hands to her head and letting out a long, pain filled moan. It was a piercing, gut wrenching noise and the warrior might have even felt a shred of pity, but for the fact that she projectile vomited the contents of her stomach in his face. That, she would find, had left her in bad standing with the alien warrior.

Unwilling to invade her personal space again the Hunter let her stand on her own and without any interference. Ignoring him completely, she staggered like a drunk and clung to the walls as she made her way to the troublesome door. Pulling a device out of a back pocket she activated the door before slouching down against the wall beside it.

The Hunter took the opportunity eagerly and stepped outside. Cold air greeted him. Unpleasant as it was it was a step towards freedom. He looked up and down the corridors. There were no guards. Paranoia swarmed his senses and he absently wondered if this was some sort of crazy Human experiment, but he banished it. He was up, dressed, awake and unrestrained; that was a step towards freedom no matter the circumstances. He listened carefully, hoping to hear one of the others and at least then have a direction to proceed in, but typical of his situations lately, there wasn't a single sound. He was going to have to guess and hope a random act of chance would get him where he needed to be. He exhaled and moved to the right. He'd gotten maybe two cautious steps before a shrill, hoarse voice cried out with a loud chorus of "NO. Go left. LEFT! _LEFT!!_"

He spared a glance behind him to find the female on her feet and leaning out the doorway, frantically pointing in the opposite direction. He caught what he was sure was an exasperated look on her face before she once more averted her eyes.

He heard her mumbling under her breath, but couldn't make out the words. She hobbled out into the main corridor and proceeded to drag herself along using the walls for support.

He snorted in disbelief and followed at a distance.


	3. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Aliens or Predators.

AN: Two courses in totally different subjects and 10 + hours a week of intense physical training. You the math doeth!! XD

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Chapter 2

He poked her again but she didn't move. A soft but steadily escalating growl began forming in his throat. There seemed to be a strange sort of pattern to the night's events. A situation he found on loop every few minutes. And each damn time the Human wound up sprawled at his feet and groaning. Alright, so he couldn't help but to shove her as she limped ahead- to incite a better pace, of course- but the stupid thing kept tripping. This particular time it had seemed that she might have hit her head during the fall because she wasn't moving.

He kicked her lightly and didn't get a response. Oh yes, _wonderful_, she was unconscious again.

He really couldn't be blamed for it this time. Alright, he was willing to admit- with a certain amount of begrudging snarls- that the original head injury was _partially_ his fault and was _probably _interfering with coordination and reflexes, but to this extent? He couldn't help but curse the weakness of Humans. Frail, stupid, disgusting things that they were. And ugly. Hideously ugly. How any self-respecting male could consider mating with something as small and meek as _that_, he'd never understand. _Humans_.

This time the Hunter managed to hold onto his frustrations; restraining himself from inflicting any more injuries on the already severely injured Human. Not out of any charity but out of necessity. He'd quickly found the compound an impossible-to-navigate maze; totally insane in its ultimate design. Needless to say, he'd been suddenly shocked to stillness to find himself thinking of how much easier it would be if he had a cognizant, conscious- not to mention willing- guide. A strange thought indeed but it was undeniably sound logic. He'd resigned himself at that time to keep her functional for as long as it took to get their gear and get out. As gratifying as it would be to rip her head from her shoulders- and that particular thought was circulating in a rapid, continuous cycle- he knew she was still useful. Her assistance could mean the difference in survival. Unfortunate, but also very, very annoyingly true.

Something brushed against his foot and he trilled approvingly as the Human stirred. She'd recovered moderately quicker this time and seemed to rise much faster to her feet. Still very unsteady- considering she was using the wall like a crutch- but her feet appeared to move forward at a much more acceptable pace.

Perhaps the nudge had worked after all.

They advanced down a series of interlinking corridors; the Hunter tried to memorize turns on the off-chance that he needed to escape a second time. Not the most wonderful of all outcomes but he doubted there'd be any more stupid Humans to lead him out of this mess if he were caught during escape number one.

Still following at a snail's pace the Hunter watched his ridiculously stupid Human guide stumble at a corner before wildly throwing herself back the way she'd come. She slid down to the ground and peeked around and into the adjacent hall. The Hunter took her warning manoeuvre with a low trill of excitement. The need to tear into flesh was boiling up within him. He crouched down to her level and carefully glanced around the edge. In comparison to her clumsy falls there was a predatory grace to his small movements. The inching of his head around the corner was so slow and subtle, even looking directly at him you might not have seen anything.

Carefully examining the problem he withdrew his head and paused to consider this new dilemma. He studied the mess of a female and instantly knew that even if she were in perfect health –which she undoubtedly wasn't- in a fight she'd be less than useless. He huffed behind his breather. This new situation had stalled him. He hadn't seen a single guard so far in his escape. That was odd. Lucky, maybe, but really not in anyway normal. Humans were rather paranoid. Common sense told him that there should have been guards stationed at his room every hour of every day. Yet, there were none when he'd left. He eyed the female carefully. He was sure she had something to do with that.

Just as he was sure she'd something to do with the six, heavily armed guards that were tensely gathered round a door at the end of the hall.

There was a loud, dull clang- he watched with great amusement as the soldiers visibly jumped at the sound- and the Hunter understood why so many of the Humans had gathered outside _this_ particular door. If he wasn't mistaken, something large was ramming the other side in a desperate and altogether unsubtle attempt to get out. Judging from the sounds it was large. _And_ incredibly vexed. He chuckled. As smart as his incredibly large comrade was, he had a serious temper problem. On most days that was an inconvenience and generally bad for everyone; prey and fellow hunter, alike. Today however, it was good for him and very, very bad for the Humans. Armed to the teeth or not, if he could get his foolish Human to open that door, things would even out. In fact, the Universe' 'pauk you' scale would rapidly shift in his favour.

Experienced in the procedure, when the Hunter poked the Human he did so lightly. She turned her head in his direction but refused to make eye contact. The Hunter swallowed the urge to shake her again. Instead he pointed to her and pointed in the direction of the room. She looked confused. The Hunter scratched at his temple, half in thought and half in irritation. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine the difficulties he'd be facing right now. Of course he could speak, but that would ruin any element of surprise he actually had with those soldiers.

Taking a clawed hand he prodded her in the hip- earning him a surprised yelp - and then he motioned in the direction of the room. Slowly, as though some incredibly complex solution were unfolding itself in her mind, the woman put her hand into her pocket and withdrew the device she'd used to open the last door. She looked at it and shook her head softly. Holding the device in one hand and bringing it close to her other hand she pushed the button and nodded. She motioned towards the corner and the door beyond it and then widening the space between her hands she shook her head in a negative fashion.

The implications were crystal clear. They were out of range for the device to work.

The Hunter nodded. That was possibly the first sliver of actual intelligence that the female had shown. Perhaps there was hope.

However, as the Hunter had come to realise, hopes were there to be dashed, apparently.

The female put a finger to her lips and made a strange noise. Having hunted Humans before he was vaguely aware that the finger on the lips gesture was a request to stay quiet but the sound that accompanied it was hilarious. He'd no idea that Humans had the capabilities to make sounds like that.

While he was inwardly debating the laugh that had lodged in his throat, the Human had started to pull herself up. It was uncomfortable to watch as she struggled with the task of getting her legs to support her weight. Holding herself up against the wall she took a few deep breaths which seemed to steady her shaking legs. She put her finger to her lips again and making another strange, static-like noise she dashed around the corner with a burst of speed that the Hunter would have much preferred she utilize earlier on. She may have just saved herself a head injury or two.

Blocked from view the Hunter peeked around and watched with mild amusement as the female ran; veering wildly to her left and then right as she attempted to keep up momentum. The soldiers, who, having taken in her state – a large number of bruises, bumps, cuts and vomit stains - lowered their weapons accordingly. One of the men rushed to meet her and having pulled one of her arms around his neck he quickly assisted her back to the others. This was Dr. Geiger's personal assistant after all. Not just anyone. There were an over abundance of questions as they tried to find out what was wrong and how she ended up in such a state at this time of night. Not even the good doctor was on base at this hour.

A movement of her hands, unseen and the door that had been previously guarded slid open with a hiss.

The Hunter's ears ached with the roar of triumph that shook the walls and no doubt alerted every single Human on base and possibly beyond. He idly wondered if there weren't Yautja on their home world who felt the ground move under their feet. The sounds of gunshots and screams put his thoughts aside and forced his body into a run.

This was the distraction that was needed.

It had taken perhaps three seconds to reach the source of the mayhem and already there were two dead bodies lying in gruesome pools of their own entrails. The Hunter snapped the neck of the nearest unawares Human and raked his claws across the chest of the one that turned to face him when the body of his friend fell at his feet. He looked around them. It would seem that Gry'sui-bpe's rush had taken down two instantly, the others had tried to fire only to find their own men in the line of sight. The problems with automated weapons and narrow corridors.

He trilled a greeting to his comrade and only received a grunt in reply. His comrade, _Gry'sui-bpe_, translated as 'Stampede', looked to the two soldiers that had fallen to his friend and his grunt turned into a disappointed growl.

The two locked eyes.

"_So, would I be correct in assuming some gratitude is out of the question?"_ The Hunter asked Stampede.

Said sulking giant snorted; responding with a brisk, heartfelt "Ell-osde' pauk!" and a growl as he noticed that the last Human soldier he'd taken down wasn't dead. He plucked the form off the ground, bent it across his knee and broke it in half. Letting it fall with a satisfying thud.

Watching a Human be broken in half like a brittle stick, the Hunter almost winced. There was something unnatural about a death like that. An image of Stampede doing the same to another Yautja flickered across his mind and he shuddered. The differences in height, weight and strength accounted for, Stampede may just have been able to do that to one of his own. Confronted with the horrible imagery and broken Humans, the Hunter couldn't help but feel he was forgetting something else. Something moderately important. It was only when he noticed that Stampede was dressed that he remembered the female. He gazed around the floor and noticed a little pair of feet sticking out from underneath the body of one of the largest soldiers. Perhaps the Human had tried to shield her...but more than likely she got hit with his flying corpse.

Grabbing a dead foot he hauled the soldier off the female only to find her unmoving. Still conscious- judging from the rasping, moaning sounds- but motionless. He nudged her with his foot and although she let out a rather garbled yelp she didn't bother to rise.

He gave up trying for the moment. There were bigger problems. It would seem that Stampede was insistent on taking trophies. Not unjustly. However, without a blade or the equipment, skinning four male Humans of large build was going to be difficult within their time frame. Humans had cameras, why they couldn't see them now he wasn't sure but he didn't trust it to last. They needed to go, _now_.

"_We don't have time for that. Leave it. We need to find…"_ He was interrupted by Stampede's roar. Obviously the large Yautja was equally as frustrated and releasing his frustration in one of the only honourable ways he could. He might have attempted to kill the female as well, but the giant had no time for tarei'hasan; no time for the weak. Even as deserving as she might have been of death, Stampede wouldn't kill her. The Hunter chuckled to himself. Not without giving her a weapon to defend herself, first, anyway.

He relented. Stampede was the highest ranked and even if he weren't, dissuading him would take longer than skinning the Humans combined.

The Hunter grunted his consent and went back to his original task of getting the female up and ready to move. There was one more member of their party that needed to be retrieved and then there was the matter of their weaponry.

She hadn't moved all that much. Not encouraging. Not in the least bit. He nudged her with the toe of his boot and she groaned again. He growled and roughly rolled her on her back. For the first time it seemed that she actually looked him in the eye. Albeit, her gaze seemed a little out of focus. He waited for her to move but despite her consciousness and eye contact, she didn't so much as move a finger to help herself up.

Losing all shreds of patience once more the Hunter reached down and, grabbing her once more by the shoulders, he yanked her up.

If he was in any doubt as to the natural defence mechanisms of the Human female he was put straight as the woman let out a scream that equalled the volume of Stampede's roar. Surely her lung capacity wouldn't be able to accommodate the sheer viciousness of the sound but she blasted it out and held it for several, _agonizing _seconds. He let go. She fell against the wall clutching her shoulder and _glared_.

Laughter rumbled from a now attentive Stampede.

"_She's been shot, fool!" _Stampede sniggered coldly.

It wasn't certain what the giant found more entertaining; the look on the female's face or the look on his comrade's. Both seemed to have very similar effects on his otherwise prickly personality.

The female averted her eyes but there was a tightness around her mouth that betrayed her anger. Still holding her wound firmly she started walking. She clumsily stepped over one of the bodies and passed Stampede without so much as a look in his direction. The ignored warrior grunted. Whether he found this offensive or relieving one couldn't tell.

He made the decisive decision to leave Stampede to his own devices for the moment and follow the female. She might not get far on her own and Stampede wouldn't have any trouble catching up with them.

He followed her onward.


	4. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Aliens or Predators.

* * *

Chapter 3

This, under any other circumstances, might have been classified as a minor problem. As it stood, without weaponry it seemed to have escalated to become an inconvenience that blew all other inconveniences out of the water.

I mean, exactly how to you fight well armed, very well trained Humans whilst carrying a semi-conscious female on one shoulder?

The Hunter wished someone would enlighten him because he was stumped. The standard procedure for encountering enemies whilst hauling a carcass was to fling the body at the attackers. See, that wasn't going to work in this case. What with the carcass in question still breathing-barely, albeit but still- and still giving a dumb down version of what passed as directions.

Silently wishing that Humans weren't as frail and didn't quite bleed as much, the Hunter shifted the body on his shoulder for the tenth time. Dead weight was fine but this one was squirming and, as a result, kept slipping. It may have been a rather self-centred notion but he'd come to believe that this was all one intricate plan of the Universe' concoction; the purpose of which was to aggravate him. After all, he didn't see Stampede hauling around live Humans. Then again, he'd probably break her neck- as a mercy of course- before arrogantly claiming he didn't need a guide. Thankfully he wasn't the one carrying the small annoyance because the Hunter had plans to vacate this facility sometime this century. Not a likely result if they were relying on Stampede's directions. Without computer assistance those abilities were incredibly diminished.

In his quiet contemplation he'd passed a set of automatic doors. With a small kick to his midsection- her new method of gaining his attention- the figure slumped over his shoulder, grunted and pointed at them.

It had seemed their method of communication had degenerated even further. She was beginning to sound and act like Stampede. Maybe the giant had been dropped on his head a few times as a pup because the Human's behaviour was clearly a result of numerous head injuries and blood loss.

This new door didn't look as though it required her handy little remote to open. In fact, it had a digital combination lock. The Hunter cocked his head to the side as the female tried to twist off his shoulder to gain access to the thing. However, it had taken him the better part of twenty minutes to get her up there and stabilized; if she got down he wasn't picking her up again. Instead he turned around so she was facing the device and he was facing out into the hall where he could watch for enemies. It also gave him a clear view of Stampede as he sauntered around the corner adorned in skulls and wearing a few patches of Human skin on his belt. Obviously common sense had kicked in and he'd abandoned his crazy notions of barehanded skinning.

There were a series of sharp mechanical tones from behind the Hunter. He'd no idea what combination she pushed but he heard a shrill beep followed by a frustrated yowl. That wasn't the sound of success and he knew it. She sighed and seemed to input a similar enough code the next time and this was followed by a hiss and what he could only describe as a 'whoop' noise from the Human.

The Hunter quickly turned around to discover what the room contained and took a step back.

Not in fear, assuredly, but in abject horror. The room did contain equipment belonging to them but from the looks of it, their plasma casters and wrist devices had been dismantled into a thousand different pieces on tables behind thick glass. Their blades were absolutely nowhere to be found. Only their masks and mask attachments seemed to have survived relatively intact- though without the wrist device and plasma caster their functions were now very limited. This was turning out to be a bigger disaster than previously thought. And how the hell did the Humans do all this in a few days, anyway? His wrist device was in about two thousand pieces. Those things take months to build.

The Hunter pulled back his fist and struck the glass only to find it didn't break. He sucked in a deep breath, found his zazin and struck out again.

And nothing.

He snorted and retreated to his earlier query as to when Humans decided to start building things of actual quality. Ridiculous. There was a howl of laughter behind him and he found Stampede covered head to toe in gore and chortling himself stupid.

In the blink of an eye Stampede went from stationary to the status of a blur as he bounded his way forward. A step away from the glass he brought up his foot and kicked out, delivering all the force of his speed and power directly into the glass.

It shattered as though it were made of sugar. Even the Human had managed to rise up to witness the awesome demonstration of raw power and her mouth was hanging wide open as a result.

Stampede retrieved his mask and settled it back on with a look of triumph that utterly decimated the notion of humility. He arrogantly gestured for his friend to retrieve his. There was a moment where the Hunter and Stampede locked sights and a flurry of silent information passed between them. There was a growl and before there could be any verbal acknowledgment, Stampede walked right up to the Hunter, pulled the female onto his own shoulder and simply stepped aside. The giant held himself smugly despite the yelps of pain and many verbal protests from the female; even though they came out at a speed that made translating difficult, the flailing arms and kicking legs conveyed the gist of it.

The Hunter retrieved his mask and relaxed a little as the world around him came into better focus. Colours swarmed his vision and data scrolled down the left side alerting him to such useless things as the absence of his wrist computer and automated weaponry. Obviously, he knew that.

Thinking ahead he picked up Setg'-in-guan's mask and atmosphere attachment and turned back to his comrade.

"_I think it's fairly obvious at this point that we won't be leaving here with everything we came in with. What we can't do it leave the Humans with these…" _The Hunter gestured to the table with a sweeping arm_. "…our blades may have to be sacrificed but we cannot allow them to retain all this."_ The Hunter lowered his head in a submissive, respectful gesture. The last thing he needed was the hunt leader taking a mere observation as some sort of challenge for leadership and killing him in a fight as soon as they escaped.

Stampede cocked his head to the side as he examined the tables and their contents. As big and as temperamental as the massive warrior could be, he wasn't higher in rank because of his size alone. He had an uncanny understanding of mechanics that belayed his towering form. Humans had this notion that the bigger you were the stupider you were. With Stampede, you believed that at your own peril. Poking at the remains of what was once the most sophisticated piece of weaponry in their home galaxy, Stampede tried to make the device once again functional.

The giant snorted.

"_The self-destruct programme is unsalvageable but they've left the power core attached to the regulator. The blast radius will be halved…but it will be enough."_ He calmly stated.

The Hunter gave his friend an odd look.

"_Presumably we'll be somewhere else?" _He questioned disbelievingly.

Stampede glared at him. An icy look by any creature's standards.

"_When I combine the power cores it will take several minutes for them to overload. We will have time enough to escape."_ Letting the parts fall from his clawed fingers, Stampede growled in annoyance. _"The detonation will be weak and messy but I see no other alternative."_ He stated confidently adding a grunt as to indicate his growing impatience with the line of questioning.

There was a squeak of a laugh. A small, pathetic sounding, shrill noise. Stampede gestured with a clawed thumb to the female slung over his shoulder.

"_Your little pet is laughing it would seem. I never did ask, exactly why is she not dead? I presumed since she was still breathing that she was doing so for a reason. Care to enlighten me?" _

The Hunter cocked his head in thought.

"_Not particularly."_ He explained.

Stampede shook his head in irritation before pointing one finger at his comrade's chest.

"_Very well…but we will discuss this later. When we do you will start by explaining why you felt you had the right to take my kills." _

The Hunter visibly paled and withdrew from Stampede. Such an accusation would only result in honourable combat and in anything other than the _very_ dishonourable kind of combat, Stampede would flatten him like a freshly skinned rug.

The Hunter got a few paces back before he noticed the grin that was tugging at Stampede's mandibles.

"_Have I ever told you I detest your humour?" _The Hunter growled at his towering comrade.

"_On many an occasion. What I find so funny is that you think me so stupid as to challenge you over something as ridiculous as a dead Ooman."_ Stampede reasoned. The big Yautja leaned forward slowly so as to bring himself almost at sight level with his shorter and far more uneasy hunting partner. _"In case you hadn't noticed, we are not in short supply of trophy material on this little mud-ball."_

The tension was broken as both Yautja started laughing.

A quiet and disturbingly still female was roughly deposited back to her original place on the shorter hunter's shoulders.

Said females backside was sharply prodded with a harsh, clawed finger. She didn't move an inch or make a sound.

"_Unconscious? Again?_ The Hunter felt a deranged chuckle well in his chest. _"I suppose it doesn't matter now, we can track Setg'-in-guan without her."_ The warrior unceremoniously dumped the unmoving body at his feet and started in the direction of the door.

Stampede barely spared a glance downward before he started assembling his crude bomb. A short communication some minutes later and the behemoth activated the device and followed in his comrades' footsteps.

A pair of unfocused eyes snapped open seconds after he left.


	5. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Aliens or Predators.

AN: I LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE!

* * *

Chapter 4

They watched the blast from a just-about safe distance. Truly, not knowing the exact size of the soon-to-be blast, Stampede had simply estimated what was a safe distance. They were all still alive but the blackened sides of the building they were sheltering in spoke of a very close call.

The third Hunter to be retrieved was being half supported by his comrades. His left thigh a mess of ugly, weeping stitches that were undoubtedly going to scar. And not in the good 'I did battle with an impressive adversary' kind of way, either. He was weak with drugs. Though, much to the Hunter's dismay, not apparently weak enough to keep quiet.

"_I don't know whether to be annoyed that most of those stupid little creatures evacuated before the blast.."_ The Hunter was sure his comrade was grinning in a deranged way behind his mask. He wasn't quite sure he was comfortable with that. _"...or happy because I get the chance to hunt them all down and pull their limbs off like the little insects they are."_ Anger was good. But only when you'd a reachable target. The Human's that had escaped were gone. There wasn't any way to track them down. Basically, this injured friend was a bomb of explosive rage gradually ticking towards a meltdown.

A meltdown no doubt he'd suffer the full effects of.

Stampede ignored both of them, his secondary communicator picking up a transmission and holding his full attention. He huffed suddenly. One clawed finger tapped gingerly at the side of his mask.

"_The Elder knows of our situation. We have been captive for nearly twelve solar cycles of this planet and he is not pleased. He has sent us coordinates for extraction although no time-frame. If we are not there when he arrives, whenever that may be, he says we should start calling this backwards little world 'Home'."_ He ground out. The sporadic mid-sentence extra mandible clicking was a sign of his annoyance.

"_How far?"_ The Hunter asked. He wasn't worried about getting there quickly. The Elder was going to let them stew for a few days. That's why he hadn't set the time. If he came for them now he'd probably rip them apart in a fit of rage, anyway. The Hunter was more concerned with the ominous rumble in the sky and his comrades deteriorating physical and mental state. Alive or dead he could not be left for the Humans to find.

The Hunter was having visions of him hauling another body around. This one much bigger than a little Human female.

He couldn't help himself. He snarled. _Viciously._

Stampede cocked his head curiously.

"_It appears to be a mostly uninhabited district in the bay area._" The Hunter grunted. That was about three hours away from their current location. "_It is a wise choice._" Stampede continued. The Hunter couldn't argue. If worst came to worst they could hide in the water. Their masks would keep them alive and their natural appearance would hide them in the murky local waters.

Temperamental his Elder may have been, but unintelligent he most certainly wasn't.

"_I will take him. You need to scout ahead._" Stampede took all the weight from the Hunter's shoulders.

All the fight drained from his body and right there, the Hunter actually thought he could lay down and die. He was grateful to be relieved of the burden. To any self-respecting Yautja that was utterly shameful.

He might have considered dying of shame if Stampede hadn't been expectantly staring at him.

The Hunter lowered his head in submission.

* * *

It took several hours to get to the extraction point. Several hours in the cold without thermal netting, without weaponry, without cloaks. Several hours hauling a comrade across roofs, up walls, down alleys. Several hours of avoiding the prying eyes of a species the Hunter was positive were too nosy for their own good. Needless to say, they were the longest hours of his life.

He was so tired by the end of it all. More exhausted than any other time he could remember. His limbs _ached_. Genuinely, truly sore. Almost two weeks worth of atrophy heaped on top of freezing conditions and his muscles had simply _seized_. Obviously, as strong and as enduring as their race was, in extreme conditions even they found themselves suffering exhaustion.

Their safe house turned out to be a building on the other side of the Human city. They were directed to the top floor and that's when all instruction ended. They climbed the metal fire-escape towards the roof and then crept in through a large open window. The area was not what they were expecting.

For starters….it looked almost lived in. Not the type of disarray that came from neglect or abandonment, but the kind of chaos that occurred as a result of daily life. _Guan_, or Night as it would have translated, was scratching at his leg when Stampede dropped him.

The injured Hunter staggered a few feet before his clawed hands gained purchase on a kind of counter-top.

Stampede guiltlessly left him in favour of examining their accommodations for the next few…well, till the Elder calmed down enough to contemplate retrieving them. The area was open. Virtually no walls. A sleeping area merged seamlessly with an area for preparing food and a living area.

There was only one terribly unnerving thing about the whole place.

It was all Human. Human bed. Human chairs. Human cooking equipment. Any Yautja would have been happy sleeping on a rug, and cooked food wasn't a requirement; most Hunters preferred the taste of raw meat, anyway. There was something so _wrong_ here. As oblivious as Night made himself appear as he dragged himself into the cooking area, it was clear that his comrades could sense it.

A lived in area filled with Human things gave the conclusion that a Human lived here. Did the Elder know? Had he planned this? Was he sitting up in his quarters laughing himself senseless? It was foolish to think that he was completely unaware. He directed them specifically to this floor. He probably _was_ laughing to himself over a stiff drink.

_"I don't like this."_ Stampede stated. His usual superior self seemed on edge.

Night lowered himself into a very small chair at an equally tiny table. He kept incredibly still as the frame groaned but otherwise held steady.

_"I for one am just glad to have a shelter. If a Human lives here, so what, we kill them. I…am not going back out into_ that._" _He gestured his thumb out into the night as a flash of lightning lit up the sky and the cacophony of heavy rain started beating against the windows and the roof.

Stampede shared a glance with him.

_"Agreed."_ He growled.

Not even he was going to argue with that logic.

* * *

The Hunter woke up hungry. The log on his mask told him that he'd arrived on this planet two weeks ago. A Yautja in good health could survive a few weeks without food. Of course that was if the Yautja in question avoided things like getting captured, tortured and avoided strenuous activities like hauling injured males across hostile cities in the freezing cold.

The Humans hadn't bothered to provide them with any kind of nourishment. Perhaps to see how long their large frames could go without or maybe to keep them as weak as possible. Either way that had resulted in nothing at all to eat. Stampede seemed the worst. He was restless. From the growing piles of crude, handmade weaponry littering his feet he'd spent the night fashioning weapons from various things littering the space they now occupied. There had been an assortment of small blades located in the food preparation area but Stampede had cast them aside. They were flimsy. Easily broken. Night on the other hand was still sleeping. Without medical supplies and food his body was doing it's very best to conserve energy.

The Hunter was fairly certain that the Elder wasn't in any rush to come pick them up. They had a few days at the very least. _That_ was more than enough time to get some food.

He made his way towards the window.

"Where_ do you think you're going?_" Stampede questioned. There was a dangerous quality to his voice that put the Hunter instantly on edge. A flash image of Stampede breaking a Human across his knee lodged itself in his mind and refused to budge no matter how hard he swatted at it. He swallowed the instinctive unease that tried to bubble up.

_"I'm going to get some food."_ He sounded calm. Which honestly surprised him. The way his mind was racing he was sure something of his nervousness would show through. It must have been all the practice.

_"The Elder ordered us to remain here._" Stampede spoke slowly. The Hunter got the feeling his giant companion was testing him in some way; as though he were some unblooded pup who actually _needed_ testing.

_"I'm getting supplies. We need food and he…"_ The Hunter inclined his head towards a softly rumbling Night. "_…he needs actual medical supplies. The rudimentary elements of Human medicine should work for us too."_

He was sure that Stampede was now grinning. He couldn't see his face but there was something about his posture.

_"And if the Elder comes while you're gone?"_ There was a definite hint of amusement in his voice.

"_Yes, yes, you will leave me here. It's not the first, nor I hope the last, you have threatened to leave me behind on a hunt._" The Hunter joked.

"_That is true. However, I'm confident I haven't threatened to leave you on a world as bad as this one._" He responded jovially. That was always a good sign.

"_So, do I have permission to leave?_" He asked. He was fairly certain Stampede would grant his request.

"_No."_

Of course, he _had_ been wrong before.

_"While you slept I searched and found a few things you might like to see._" He pointed a thumb in the direction of the cooking area.

The Hunter stepped cautiously. His large friend was known to have a rather unappreciated sense of humour and combined with too much time on his hands that sometimes proved problematic.

_"There is a door there. I suggest you take a look inside._"

He stood alongside Stampede staring at the contents of the room. Freezing mist pooled around his feet and an unpleasant chill crept up along his skin.

He paid it absolutely no mind.

_"Is it safe?"_ He asked somewhat dumbfounded as he ripped a strip of meat from the flank of the carcass.

_"I'd presume so. I'd my fill of it hours ago and haven't suffered any negative effects."_

There were three hanging cow carcasses in the walk in freezer. Fresh. Hung barely days ago. He took his mask off and took in a lung full of the smell- that glorious smell- before setting to work on the strip of meat he'd ripped off.

Stampede cocked his head and gave him a look. One of those 'What are you? An animal?' looks.

_"Be careful you don't choke."_ Stampede grunted before pulling a strip of meat off the nearest cow and leaving.

The Hunter didn't reply. He didn't even acknowledge his absence.

Out in the main room Stampede began testing the balance of his make-shift blades. One by one he picked them up to test them and one by one he cast them all aside in a dissatisfied huff.

_"Useless!"_ Stampede growled.

The Hunter couldn't hide or contain the grin that flared his mandibles at the sight. He was eating, he was dry and there wasn't a Human in sight. Right now he didn't care about annoying Stampede.

He pulled another sizable chunk from the chilled carcass and wandered over towards his injured sleeping comrade.

Taking Night by the shoulder the Hunter shook him. He'd been expecting him to respond in some way. Perhaps give some sign that he was in fact alive. Of course this hunt just seemed to be full of surprises. There was no response from his injured comrade.

He checked Night's vitals quickly and ran a basic scan with his mask. They all told him that his comrade was simply sleeping. He shook him again and growled when there was no response.

Looking up he found Stampede standing on the other side of Night, watching the goings on.

The hunt leader cocked his head quizzically when Night was shaken again. When the Hunter had finally given up on the shaking business and was preparing to just leave him to it, Stampede took one ludicrously sharp claw and poked it somewhat viciously into Night's leg wound. The Yautja bolted upright with a startled yelp.

"_I'd always assumed your female progenitor to be joking when she said you slept like the dead."_ Stampede reached over and pulled the strip of meat from the Hunter's grip. He stuck it in Night's face. "Eat. When the Elder comes I have no intention of carrying you onto the ship.

The prospect of food seemed to speed up Night's movements. In a heartbeat his mask was off and there was meat getting stuffed between a pair of flaring mandibles. The Hunter momentarily wondered how he was breathing but thought better of asking. He left Night to his food and his rest. Stampede was right. They were probably going to need all the sleep and food they could get

* * *

It had been nearly four cycles since their escape and four cycles since they were directed to the shelter to await the arrival of the Elder. It had been four days and the weather still hadn't improved.

Outside the thunder boomed and the lightning still flashed. The rain fell and the temperature remained just above freezing. The three Yautja when they weren't practicing their hand combat, eating or sleeping, watched the skies in distain.

_"No pathetic trophy is worth this misery. This is a godforsaken world."_ Night spat. He walked away from the window with a limp but his leg wound was well on the way to healing. Already it had sealed and scabbed. He tended to be lucky like that. Some Yautja recovered faster than most.

And yet, it was always those ones that complained the longest.

Four days trapped in close quarters with his comrades had provided the Hunter with some astoundingly good and some equally horrific experiences.

The chance to spar with Stampede was something any Yautja would kill for. He was considered one of the best. One of the strongest fighters. There was always a queue to train with him. Four days of one on one sessions was something he was genuinely enjoying.

Or course, there was the small issue of sharing the ridiculously small room that the Human's devoted to personal hygiene. While the cleansing agents were utterly foul the warm water showers were a blessing. That was until they discovered that the water grew cold the more of it you used. It was a habit of Yautja to cleanse early in the morning right after waking when the facilities were available. Unfortunately when there were three fighting for the room, problems appeared. It started with who went first. Stampede would always normally get the first space, however with Night's leg and a lack of medical supplies hygiene might mean the difference between life and death.

That had been before they found out that after one of them had showered it would take hours for the water to heat again. All of them had gone weeks without cleaning while on a hunt. It wasn't the idea that they couldn't clean themselves that bothered them…it was more _who_ got to clean themselves that caused the most upset.

The Hunter left those arguments to Stampede and Night. As good as the hot water was, he wasn't going to waste energy fighting over the morning slot when he could simply clean at any point in the day.

Adaptability was always one of his strong points.

"_There's been no sign of any Humans."_

The Hunter sought a topic of conversation that would take Stampede's mind off the fact that Night had beaten him to the shower that morning. The large Yautja had been in a very dark mood since.

"_No. There hasn't. I've been thinking of something and I'd like to hear your opinion. You've always been an abstract thinker and that is a very rare trait for our kind. It's one I personally value._" Stampede spoke slowly, carefully.

The Hunter twitched. He knew dangerous ground when he heard it. The fact that Stampede had complemented him on his approach to things had been a very blatant attempt to lure him into a false state of ease. It had the opposite effect.

"_What is it you wish to discuss?_" The Hunter asked cautiously.

_"I'm concerned that we have been left here_." Stampede blurted out.

The Hunter blinked confusedly for a moment.

_"Of course we've been left here.."_ The Hunter stammered until Stampede held up a hand to silence him.

"_I was more implying permanently. I'd heard a story some years ago of a situation like our one where our Elder left a warrior on a planet. He gave him coordinates to await him and simply left the solar system._" The large Yautja's voice had grown quiet.

The Hunter nodded in understanding.

_"And you're concerned that he's done this again. That he has no intention of coming for us?_"

_"Yes, that's more or less exactly what I'm concerned about."_


End file.
